Season 3 Episode 5

429 11 0
                                    

Meanwhile, a few drops of blood were already oozing from her sore knuckles, as she had intentionally left the boxing gloves in her room to feel the pain more clearly. She had been back under her own control for a few hours now and she felt terrible for everything she had done. Apparently Abigail wasn't the only one who didn't want to find sleep, because platinum blonde hair appeared at the door, watching her. "Abigail, you're bleeding! What are you doing?" this one shouted when she recognized her red hands and ran towards her. But Abigail just ignored her and only hit harder against the dangling bag in front of her, imagining the blows would hit Dreykov. That he was dead she did not know until this moment. "Abigail, stop! Look at your ankles," Natasha admonished again but she stood firm. "No." To stop the madness, Natasha put herself between the punching bag and her to stop Abigail from continuing to punch at it. "Come on, let me clean them up," she spoke softly, looking down at her bleeding hands.

In the kitchen, Abigail sat down on one of the bar stools while Natasha doused a rag with water. Before she got anywhere near her hands, though, the redhead was already wincing and jerking her hands back. "Seriously, Abigail? I haven't even touched you yet," Tasha said, raising an eyebrow. She was spared a reply to that as Wanda stepped into the room and laughed, "Get in a fight with a punching bag, Abigail?" Apparently Natasha didn't find this too funny though as she turned her head to look the now also redhead warningly in the eye. "The reason we didn't all keep looking for a plan right away was so you could rest. And now, however, everyone seems to have something better to do," she interjected, probably overreacting a bit, but all of her nerves were lying planck lately. Abigail stifled a comment about how the reason was probably with Steve and instead listened to Wanda's response. "I came to steal Abigail's Oreos."

"Oh no you don't!" exclaimed Abigail also laughing and jumping up from her chair to check on her Oreos. Sure enough, there were still a few packs left in her drawer, the ones that were missing had fallen victim to Natasha's grief, but she let her get away with it.

The closest thing to a daughterWhere stories live. Discover now